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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676748">The Rink Between Them</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindsaymarie11/pseuds/Lindsaymarie11'>Lindsaymarie11</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, Book 1: Howl's Moving Castle, Competition, Eventual Romance, F/M, Foreplay, Ice Skating, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:28:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindsaymarie11/pseuds/Lindsaymarie11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie Hatter has her goals and Howl definitely isn't one of them.  Her sister's well being is determined by her skating career, so she's not going to let distractions get in her way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Fisher/Martha Hatter, Sophie Hatter &amp; Howl Pendragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sophie-1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Sophie</b>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would you like some water?" Sophie registers someone speaking to her from her right.  "Miss?" She looks over to find a worried flight attendant- dressed in the cliche red and white uniform one always sees in movies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sophie's heart is hammering in her chest and she tries to breathe, but the effect has her looking like a fish out of water instead.  She shakes her head no, but the flight attendant doesn't seem convinced and she reaches down in her cart for a bottle of water. Annoyed, Sophie searches for something that will actually help.  Clawing at the pocket of the chair in front of her, she pulls out the barf bag she knows is tucked away inside it. She holds it firmly over her mouth as she breathes inside it, feeling her air go inside and out of her lungs again.  Slowly, her breathing goes back to normal- no thanks to the flight attendant. <em>Aren't they trained for instances like this?</em> She wonders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once convinced that Sophie has recovered, the attendant leaves, telling Sophie that the water is on the house.  Whatever, Sophie isn't worried about the price of a water bottle that's the size of her big toe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sophie doesn't like travelling.  She doesn't like people being clueless on the whole process of flying, she doesn't like flight changes, and she definitely doesn't like flight attendants with attitudes.  But all of that is child's play in comparison to how out of control her life has gotten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her sister, Martha, is trapped in their home alone with Fanny, her mother and Sophie's step mom.  Fanny is dangerous on the best of days, but Sophie can't do much with the situation staying home. So Sophie decided to pick up her life and move it to California in order to fast track her career.  Hopefully a new coach will get her good enough to win a few gold metals so she can earn enough money to move Martha out. Being away from Martha was a hard choice, but she made it and now she's not so sure it was the right one.  What if Fanny has a meltdown and Sophie isn't there to fight her off? The whole point in doing this is to protect her but it feels like she's doing the opposite moving hundreds of miles away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then there's the issue of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Sophie doesn't want to go there. Hopefully he'll just write her off as another rink mate and leave her alone.  Hopefully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of thinking her way into another panic attack, she fishes out her headphones.  She has two solid hours left of this flight and she intends to use them wisely. She still hasn't decided on programme songs and she's starting to worry she won't have them picked out in time.  She's compiled a playlist and although she likes the songs in them, she can't settle on one. She'll have to listen to them thousands of times throughout the season, so they have to be songs she has an emotional attachment to.  It's just that emotions aren't her strong suit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her phone blows up when she finally lands.  Most of the messages are from Martha and she texts her that she made it okay and she'd call her later.  The other message is from her new coach, Suliman:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>I sent you a driver.  He'll be at the North entrance</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her stomach flips at the mention of a driver.  Does he treat all his skaters like this? What kind of standards will she have to meet for him?  Can she afford this caliber of coach?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <b>Just landed.  Thank you, </b>
  <span>she texts back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, she doesn't have much for luggage and so she doesn't spend much time at baggage claim.  She decided to have most of her belongings mailed to her new address to save time at the airport- the less time maneuvering around clueless people, the better.  People are thick this time of year-most of them vacationing- which leaves her no choice but to force her way through the crowds. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why must they stand and talk in the middle of the walkways?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  She'll never understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, she sees the light at the end of the tunnel- which happens to be in the shape of the North entrance.  She breathes a sigh of relief and belines for the door. Within moments of sucking down fresh air she spots a man holding a sign with her name on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man immediately introduces himself, "I'm Heen, Coach Suliman's assistant.". He takes her bags and throws them into the trunk of the blue Prius he was standing in front of.  She's not sure why, but she had been expecting a sleek sports car, but that's probably just her mind drawing clinchéd conclusions at the mention of a driver. Heen himself is dressed in khaki shorts and what looks like a flowy beach shirt.  She wonders if her mind is hyping up Coach Suliman because of his reputation. You don't train a world class skater who has won over a dozen gold metals without making a name for yourself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once in the car, she tries to make conversation.  "Coach Suliman is efficient."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heen smiles at her through the rear view mirror.  "Suliman keeps his skater's minds on their goals.  Removing distractions is part of his job."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah.  If Coach is all about removing distractions, then she may have to keep parts of her life private- at least for how.  She's just unsure how she's going to do what with a career that's always on the move. She shutters at the thought of more travel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you cold?" Heen asks her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, thank you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the miles fly by, she notices how beautiful the landscape is.  There are people out enjoying the sunny spring day. They're out walking dogs, riding bikes, skateboarding, and even rollerblading.  She didn't know people still did that. She's never seen palm trees before- they're huge! And the sky seems so much bigger and bluer.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The car ride is much too short as they pull up to a gate.  Heen speaks to the security guard and they're allowed entrance.  When the house comes into view, Sophie is floored. She's going to live here?!  There's no way she can afford this! It looks like a palace! There's a circular driveway with a fountain in the center and there's perfectly trimmed bushes and trees around the house.  The house itself is stucco in a light brown color with red and white trim and shutters. There are at least five peaks on the roof in  total and too many windows to count. The walkway leading up to the front door is laid with a tile mosaic mandala.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heen assures her that her luggage will be in her rooms before she gets to them.  The fact that she has </span>
  <em>
    <span>rooms</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn't get past her, but she decides to worry about it later.  Her heart is beating fast again- she's so close to being coached by the famous Suliman.  What will he have in store for her? What standards will he expect of her?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The massive, decorated doors are opened into a foyer with double grand staircases, warm woodwork, ornate rugs, portraits of past gold medalists hanging on the walls, and Suliman himself, standing in the middle, ready to welcome Sophie.  He walks up to her and pulls her into a hug. She's never prepared to receive physical social situations like this and she immediately freezes, just hoping it will be over soon. When he finally pulls away, he holds her shoulders at arm's length, getting a good look at his new student.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You look well.  Do you feel well?" He asks, genuine concern reaching into his eyes.  She notices the crows feet around them and she feels nothing but friendliness emitting from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And your flight?  Did it go well?". She is struck by how much he cares.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiles and nods, trying to assure him that she made it in one-maybe not entirely stress free- piece.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good, good.  I expect you're hungry, yes?". He begins walking, placing a hand on the small of her back to encourage her to follow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Starving</span>
  </em>
  <span>," she immediately replies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gives her a knowing smile back.  "I'll introduce you to our chef. He practically lives in the kitchen.  I don't know if that's because he likes being there, or if he feels he needs to guard the food."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sophie laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Calcifer is a unique fellow, but he's the best in the business and that's why I hired him.  He may come off as brash, but he does it out of love. I think," Coach explains.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever.  Calcifer sounds like a nice enough dude- there's no way he's anything like Fanny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sophie has a moment to ponder Suliman.  He may have a reputation for being the best coach in the world, but he sure is very casual.  Even his one employee she's met was casual. His home, however, is not. He's dressed in jeans and a polo and what looks like leather slippers.  He has sticking red hair that's about shoulder length and a well trimmed, thick beard that suits his face well. He's fit, of course, with excellent posture.  Sophie can't help but conclude that he is indeed an attractive man like Martha had observed last season during a post competition banquet. At the time, Sophie wrote it off simply because he was in a suit.  Besides, her attention was on </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not on Suliman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coach pushes open a door at the end of the hall and the floor changes from pursian rug to epoxied concrete floor.  The room is silver because everything in it is silver, and the walls are completely covered in white subway tiles. There's a commotion coming from the far wall and as they round a corner she sees a flash of color.  It turns out to be Calcifer yelling and screaming at a large pot on the stove, and the color turns out to be his hair. He's dyed it red, blue, and orange and the effect makes it appear to be fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Calcifer!" Coach yells to get his attention.  When the chef spins around startled to see his boss, he clams up.  "What seems to be the problem?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Someone was in my kitchen and moved my spices around.  Now my famous 'welcome home chili' is ruined," Calficer explains in an angry, yet defeated manor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sophie steps up to the stove and smells the air above the offending pot and finds that it does indeed smell wrong.  "Was it ginger?" She wonders aloud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Calcifer snaps his head around to look at her.  "Who do you think you are, coming into </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> kitchen and smelling <em>my</em> food before it's ready?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sticks out her hand.  "Sophie. Nice to meet you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Calcifer looks at it baffled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coach chuckles.  "Calcifer, this is Sophie, my new recruit."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Calcifer peers at her speculatively. "Ginger, you say."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sophie nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fine.  I'll just add some sugar," he pauses the conversation while he reaches for the sugar.  "You just fly in?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I did," she answers him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You must be hungry.  There's yogurt in the fridge."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her rooms are located on the west side of the building on the second floor.  In addition to her own bedroom, she has a full bathroom, closet with a washer and dryer, and an entertainment room.  She likes the entertainment room because it has a sunken floor and the whole inside border is a couch complete with cushions and decorative pillows.  The bathroom is amazing and she can't wait to soak in the tub. Her bags are waiting for her in her bedroom. On her bed is a folder that contains all the information she'll need, like her financial information,  a map of the property, and her diet dos and don'ts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's not much of the day left, but dinner is delivered to her room.  Coach had said that he doesn't wish to stress her out any more than he has to so he'll make all the introductions tomorrow when they all begin their training.  The other skaters will have arrived by now, which means he will be here-in the same building. Her hands begin to shake at the thought. How will she make her first introductions?  What should she wear? Should she put on makeup even though she'll most likely sweat it off? No, she needs to stop thinking about him, even though she's been dreaming of it since she saw him on TV when she was seven.  He was a teen then, and already climbing to be the best skater in the world. As she grew older, she started to notice his broad shoulders and narrow hips, and his arms... she never intended for him to still be skating at twenty eight, nor did she plan on sharing a rink with him.  He should be retired by now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She has her current belongings put away and with nothing more to do she finds herself idle.  Her art supplies haven't been mailed yet and she's not in the mood to sit and watch TV. The only thing left to do in order to relieve some stress is to skate, and she has everything for that.  She grabs her duffle before she can think herself out of it. According to the map, the rink is in a separate building in the back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time she's finally on the ice, she's able to let her concerns drift away.  She puts in her headphones and flips through her song list. Maybe letting her mind drift while listening to a song will entice her body to choose the songs for her </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2 - Howl 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Howl struggles getting back into the swing of things, but a new rink mate might make this season more interesting, if only he could remember her!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long update- I moved!! I have a lot on my plate right now but I don't like to leave things unfinished, so I'll work on this regularly.  I have to apologise is the first chapter felt chopy- I had to write it out on my phone since my computer was packed up.  I get too impatient sometimes 😅.  Also, I don't have a beta.</p><p>I hope this chapter is better 🙏</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What a brutal few months for Howl. Not physically, though. On the off season Howl fills his time by being as lazy as he can be. He likes to take his time off by watching as many movies, TV shows, and TikTok as he can. Not to mention the video games and romance novels he engages in. Every athlete unwinds differently, so Howl doesn’t allow himself to feel bad about it. No, his day was brutal because Suliman and Calcifer came crashing into his room to lecture him and then sent him out to run a few miles. Normally it wouldn’t bother him, but he’s getting older and being treated like a child doesn’t sit well with him.</p><p>And that’s not all that’s weighing on him. He isn’t ready to tell anyone yet- especially so soon and with a new rink mate joining them this season. Howl prides himself with how much he likes people- okay, women- but meeting new people always makes him nervous. What if they don’t get along or they wreck their hard won family dynamic? What if she’s just another Lily? Howl isn’t sure he can handle that.</p><p>The sun has set hours ago, but Howl is wide awake. At this hour, no one is awake- mostly because with tomorrow being the first day of training, everyone wants to be well rested. Which is a shame because Howl loves his rink mates and likes being with them. Therefore, he’s bored and used to going to bed late, so he makes his way down to the rink. He could walk there in his sleep so his mind wanders as he walks. He doesn’t notice that most of the lights are still on in the house or that there is a fresh set of dirty dishes on the kitchen counter.</p><p>He remembers a lot- he really does- but it’s what he doesn’t remember that scares him. Something happened to him that he doesn’t like to think about after last season’s grand prix that caused him some memory loss. Suliman has done his best to fill in memory gaps, but he can’t fill them all in. Everyday he’s been trying to keep his mind off of the fact that it could happen again, and he’s terrified that the memory loss could be more significant. It could derail his career forever and then he’d have to give up what he loves most. Not to mention it would mean he wouldn’t be able to start coaching when he retires. Hell, he might have to relearn everything. Sullivan reassured him that they’d start the season slowly, but Howl’s gut is already tied in knots.</p><p>He shakes his head in an attempt to chase away the trial of negative thought he’s wandered down. He can’t be idle with all this turmoil threatening to boil over, which is the second reason for heading down to the rink.</p><p>He walks past the backyard gardens and wishes he’d brought a jacket. It’s early spring and the temperature dropped after the sunset. He can see his breath in wisps of vapor. The morton building comes into view as he follows the paved path past the hedges. Sulliman built it about fifteen years ago after he inherited the land from his late grandparents. It’s nothing special- just a few changing rooms and the rink. There’s one set of small bleachers for the team and their families to observe from, but other than that it’s bare. Sullivan doesn’t want to make people think he’s materialistic despite his gated mansion complete with a rose garden, fountain, and fourteen stall garage.</p><p>Howl notices through the glass front doors that there’s a light on and wonders with a smile and an excited flip to his stomach if he’s stumbled upon a person after all tonight. As he pushes open the door he sees a feminine shape glide across the frozen surface.</p><p>She has long red-gold hair that flows thickly in waves down to the middle of her back. She’s dressed plainly in tight black leggings and a gray crop top. As she dances on the ice, her midriff peakes out and catches his attention. It’s so distracted he almost forgets to look at her face, which is calm and peaceful. She seems to be enjoying herself- lost in whatever song she’s listening to with her earbuds. Her skates cut the ice with expert precision as she builds speed for a jump and when she leaves the ice in a flawless flourish, she executes a flawless triple loop and then lands perfectly with the ice screaming under her skates. Then she eases easily into a few dance moves, all the while her eyes are closed. Whatever song she’s listening to must be easy going, slowish, and full of longing.</p><p>He’s blown away when she enters into a spread eagle and lets out the sweetest singing voice he’s ever heard: “Oh, take me back to the night we met.” Her words fall out of her mouth and fill the silent arena like a siren and Howl is drawn to it.</p><p>He grips the side of the rink and wonders when he had moved from the doors into the building. His chest tightens and his throat goes dry. Does he know her? She looks so familiar...</p><p>“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you...” she continues to sing.</p><p>Captivated by her, his earlier worries seem to dissipate.</p><p>Her song must end because her eyes open and she stops skating. Still at center ice, she’s clearly thinking. He notices how her breathing is normal despite- what he assumes- she had just skated an entire routine with at least one jump that he saw. Turning, she skates to a nearby notebook. Is she choreographing her own routine? Would Suliman like that?</p><p>He moves to approach her, but does so in a way a person would approach a wild deer. The moment she looks up at him she starts, practically jumping out of her skates.</p><p>“God, Howl, you scared me!” she breathes, patting her chest to try and still her racing heart. He sees her large brown eyes and in his mind he sees a flash of a blue dress. The lost memory splits his head apart and he clutches it in an effort to make the pain go away. This is the first time a lost memory has tried to unburry itself and it’s so shocking he has to brace himself on the side of the rink to keep from doubling over- which he’s suddenly thankful is there.</p><p>Trying to look normal, he focuses his attention back on Sophie the best he can. He’s not surprised that she knows who he is- he’s a famous skater after all- but that doesn’t stop his chest from puffing up in pride. At least he won’t have to go through awkward introductions on his part.</p><p>“Do I get the pleasure of knowing your name?” he asks her with his usual flowery, flirty voice.</p><p>She blinks at him in surprise for a moment before flashing him a skeptical look. He’s gotten that look before from people who don’t know about his memory loss. Usually it means that he’s forgotten something they’re obviously referring to and his stomach drops at the sight of it. This beautiful creature knows him and he cannot recall her at all.</p><p>“Right,” she says with a scoff, “I thought you’d be upset with me being here.”</p><p>Now he feels downright guilty, and his piercing headache isn’t helping at all. What could have happened between them that even he wouldn’t want to spend time with a woman? The pain reaches the back of his head and he reaches back to squeeze it. He lets out a nervous laugh, fainting competency. “Well, I figured since we’re rink mates and all we could start over.” The rubbing isn’t helping.</p><p>She sighs, but seems relieved. She extends her hand for him to shake. “I’m Sophie Hatter,” she introduces herself, “Nice to finally meet the legendary Howl.” </p><p>He takes her small hand into his fingers- it doesn’t escape him how his long fingers wrap it completely- and shakes it. He can’t help but think his life is forever changed in that moment. He can only hope that whatever happened between them in their past stays there and she takes his wish to start over seriously.</p><p>She blushes.  </p><p>He smiles, knowing that he could still have a chance with this talented skater. Besides, whatever happened couldn’t have been that bad.</p><p>“That was some skating,” he compliments and lets go of her hand. “I can’t wait to see what Suliman does with you this season. Are you working on a programme?” </p><p>She catches up to what he’s talking about and rips her eyes from his to look at her notebook. “Oh, yes. Mostly I’m just trying to nail down songs. Is that why you’ve come here in the middle of the night?”</p><p>“No, but I really do need to do that too. I was just feeling bored,” he shrugs.</p><p>She smiles as though she completely understands. “Well, the ice is all yours. My wiggle worms are all worked out.”</p><p>“I guess I’ll see you at breakfast," he offers.</p><p>She looks down at her Apple watch. “That’s in what, four hours?” she lets out a small laugh.</p><p>He laughs too, only thinking about it like that in that moment.</p><p>She quietly gathers her things and says a soft good-bye as she slips out the doors.</p><p>Howl immediately succumbs to the pain stabbing his brain and doubles over and pushes on his temples. Taking a few deep breaths, he tells himself that it doesn’t hurt. If he thinks away the pain, maybe it will go away. S</p><p><em> Stop. Stop. Stop.</em> he thinks. A wave of grief threatens to wash over him, but he holds it back not knowing where the source of this emotion is coming from. He lays down on the ice and presses his forehead to it and stays there for several minutes all the while the mantra of <em>Stop</em> plays in his mind.</p><p>---</p><p>He has to rush to the men’s room to throw up before he’s well enough to walk back to his room. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but the night air seems to have gotten colder. The day’s dew has frozen on the grass and garden in beads of glittering droplets. As he passes through the hedge row, he hears Sophie’s voice only she sounds distressed, so he follows it wanting to know if he could get between her and whoever she’s fighting with, but as he goes deeper into the rose garden, he finds her alone and speaking on her phone.</p><p>“Martha! You just need to stand up to her!” she practically yells into the receiver.</p><p>He ducks down behind the bushes to hide from her line of sight knowing that this is not the type of conversation to barge into.</p><p>“You know I’m doing this for you...Don’t say that- it’s what he wanted...of course it’s what I want too, what kind of question is that...call the police if it gets out of hand...no, don’t even think about running away. You’re still underage and she’ll put out an amber alert...just hang in there, okay?”</p><p>Howl’s alarm bells are blaring. Whoever she’s speaking with seems to be in some kind of danger. Perhaps Sophie’s home situation is a mess right now and Howl knows for sure he doesn’t want any part of that. He has a reputation to uphold- what would it look like in the tabloids if he suddenly got mixed up in some sort of domestic abuse case? Besides, he still has memories to uncover. Only now he’s not sure if he wants to if it’s going to cause his head to split apart.</p><p>Sophie can handle this on her own.</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll get the designs to her by Friday...Promise... Love you too, Sis...Bye.” She ends the call and seems to take a few moments to collect herself. If she’s crying, Howl cannot tell, but it looks as though she’s doing everything in her power to keep from crying. Then she stomps back towards the house, leaving Howl hidden in the rose bushes.</p><p>Despite what he just witnessed and the new set of questions rolling around in his aching head, he has to admit, she’s lovely.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi lovely readers!  Thank you for reading!  Have a happy quarantine~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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